


Simon Snow and the Quest For Magic

by spongiform-encephalopathies (turketspy)



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turketspy/pseuds/spongiform-encephalopathies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months have passed since Simon Snow's confrontation with the Insidious Humdrum. He was just beginning to believe that he could live as a Normal. Then one morning, he begins to feel the familiar pull in his chest. He begins to feel the stirring. But without a magical artifact, he can't command magic. With the help of an ancient text, Simon sets out on a quest to do something no one has done in millennia: create his own magical artifact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Stirring

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know that I said I would finish 'Romeo + Juliet" before I started this one (to someone. Or on Tumblr. Idk, man, I just said it), but I got stumped on Simon's perspective. So I decided to reconnect with Simon using this fic. It's one that I talked about with the bae while I was driving up to MO, and one that I started writing before, but I feel much more comfortable writing it now. And once I feel like I've reconnected with Simon, I'll start alternating between writing this and writing 'Romeo + Juliet'.

**Simon**

It was a Thursday. I remember it because Baz had gone to work at seven instead of eight, and he only goes to work at seven on Thursdays. He kissed me goodbye, told me he loved me (which I will never, ever get tired of hearing), and then left. I remember feeling like something was different. But I couldn't place it, so I went back to sleep for an hour until I had to wake up to get to class. When I woke up to take a shower, I realized that it felt like a hum. It felt like there was a hum coursing through me, spilling over and out of me. I thought I was dying.

I showered and dressed, feeling lightheaded, dizzy. I felt drunk. I felt disoriented. And, of course, it was the hum. But it was also the taste and smell of mint. Faint, but present. It was wanting it to be true, but wanting to die because it couldn't be true. It couldn't be true because this isn't what it felt like.

Instead of going to class, I shot an email to my professor and went straight for Penny's parents' house. Professor Bunce, Professor Mrs. Bunce, takes Thursdays to herself. To spend with Martin. Who has asked me numerous times to call him Martin, so I'm trying this thing where I test it out in my head for a while before I call him Martin to his face. They sensed it the moment I walked in.

My magic.

Professor Bunce almost cried. She'd felt bad after everything that happened with the Mage. She took me in. Figuratively. Penny and I got our own flat as soon as we left Watford. But Professor Bunce let me come around, let me babysit Priya and Pip every now and then. Sometimes, she even called me son.

That day, she hugged me and took my face in her hands and stared, then hugged me again. She was happy for me. Martin clapped me on the back. They actually took part of the day off. I asked them not to tell anyone. I think I wanted to wait it out, make sure that my magic really was back. But they knew. Martin had hypothesized, he told me, that once the holes in the magical atmosphere started to close that I would get my magic. The magic that I was supposed to have. I couldn't believe it.

After I told them and we had a proper celebration, Professor Bunce asked me about my wand. Where was it? Had I tried any spells?

I could only shake my head.

I hadn't kept my wand because it didn't belong to me. Didn't work for me. It had been the Mage's father's. So I left it with him. I gave it to Dr. Wellbelove to leave with the Mage's body. It was either buried or destroyed. I didn't have a wand.

With no family and no inkling of where I came from, I had no way of getting a wand, either. There isn't a shop in the magical world where we can go to buy wands. Magical artifacts are passed down through families. And I don't have a family.

That's why Professor Bunce told me to meet her today. After the Mage's reforms, all traditional magic texts were removed from Watford's library. With Professor Bunce as headmistress, they were returned. And she told me that day that she thought she knew of a text that might help us. It's an ancient text, one that no one has looked at in millennia because no one's had to since then, but she says it holds the instructions to make a magical artifact. 

**Penelope**

Simon is up to something. He's been going to my house every few days and holing up in Dad's office with Mum. They sneak around and whisper when they think no one can hear. But I heard once. Something about an ancient text. And why, for snake's sakes would Mum and Simon be whispering about ancient texts?

I corner him after dinner in the bathroom. It's not the best place, but it'll do.

"Why are you and Mum whispering about ancient texts, Simon?" I hiss, backing him into the corner. "We have a pact. No secrets. Spill."

He looks cagey, like he might try to bolt. He's eyeing the door behind me.

"Penny, I didn't want to tell you yet," he sighs, pulling at the hair at the back of his neck. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Wanted what to be a surprise?" I ask. I think I know already. He's felt different the past few days. Cooler. Physically. Like his temperature's dropped. I hope I'm right.

"Well," he starts, trailing off. "You see, your dad had this theory that he just told me about. He thought that once the holes in the magical atmosphere started to close, that I might-"

"You got your magic back!" I yelp, unable to control it. I tackle him in a hug before he can get another word out.

**Simon**

If Penny figured it out this quickly, I don't know how Baz is going to tell me he knew. He's probably already figured it out. I hug Penny back until she lets go.

"Yeah, I got my magic. My actual magic this time, I think," I say. "The magic I was supposed to have."

"Well how do you know?" I ask. I sit down on the side of the bathtub while Simon sits on the toilet lid.

"If feels different, y'know?" I say, trying to come up with a way to explain it. It feels like a stream. But not like a water stream. Like an air current. Flowing through my chest. It's cool and free and I love it. "It feels like a stream of air flowing through me. Like a cool breeze in the winter. Penny, it's wonderful."

I feel tears of happiness springing up in my eyes and I let it happen. Because I have magic. I'd just resigned myself to never feeling magic again. I had just begun to feel like I could make it through as a Normal. I feel like I just got feeling back in a limb that I thought would be dead forever. It feels like I can breathe again for the first time in months.

She hugs me again, and I let myself fall into her. Penny is like a sister to me, She's my best friend. And I should have told her first. But I wanted to be sure. I wanted to make sure that I was really experiencing my magic before I told anyone. I was afraid to be excited about it because I was afraid I wouldn't get to keep it. That I would lose it again.

"Simon, this is fantastic!" Penny says as she moves to sit back on the side of the tub. "What did Baz say?"

I freeze, my hand going instinctively to my hair. "I haven't told him yet."

Penny looks at me like she wants to say something but is stopping herself. Then she shakes her head. "What do you mean you haven't told him yet?"

"I mean that the first person I went to was your mum. Because I knew that she would be able to tell me that I wasn't crazy. That I actually had magic and that I would actually be able to keep it." I pause. "I wanted to be sure before I told you or Baz. Because I didn't want to get your hopes up, too."

**Penelope**

I don't know what to say. He kept it from us, that his magic is back, to protect us? This is the single most important thing that has happened to Simon since defeating the Humdrum, and he was trying to protect _us_? My best friend is a complete idiot. I tell him so.

He laughs, "It probably was stupid. But I didn't want you or Baz to feel sorry for me if I lost it again. If this was only temporary."

"Simon, we love you. And you need to trust us enough to tell us when things happen." I punch him in the shoulder. "Like your bloody magic coming back!"

He nods, smiling. I bite at my lip.

"What is it, Penny?"

"When are you planning on telling Baz?"

He sighs, "I knew that was going to be your next question." Rakes a hand through his hair. "When I get a new wand. Or, magical artifact. I'm not sure it's going to be a wand just yet."

"What do you mean, 'get a new magical artifact'? Simon, you can't just go to the store and buy one."

"I know you can't, Penny! Don't tell Baz any of this, okay?"

I nod eagerly.

"Your mum showed me this text, this ancient text. I can't even pronounce the name of it. But it has instructions for making a magical artifact. For binding a wand or a ring or a belt buckle to your magic so that you can use it as a conduit."

I'm stunned.

"You mean, you're going to create a magical artifact? Simon, that could take weeks! Months even!"

"Yeah, that's why I'm starting now. Summer break is about to start; I'll go on my quest while I'm out of classes and while Baz is at work. And I'll go back to Watford for a bit, or work with your mum, to make sure that I'm up to par. Then I'll tell him." 

I feel like I'm seeing Simon for the first time in months. He's got his old spark back, his zest for life, if you will. He's himself for the first time since the Humdrum and the Mage. And suddenly I'm crying too. I wrap him in a hug, yet again.

"It's so good to have you back," I whisper into his neck.

"It's good to be back," he replies.


	2. A Book

**Simon**

The book is in Latin. I hate Latin. And I'm shit at Latin. 

"Pennyyyyyy!" I whine, rolling on her bed. Whining and rolling on Penny's bed are not beneath me when I need her help. Sometimes I'll even agree to rub her shoulders or something akin to it if I really need her help. I think at this point I would wash her back and rub her feet if it meant not having to translate this book by myself. 

"What, Simon?" she laughs, shoving my head off her foot. 

"I need your help," I lead. "This book is in Latin. And you know how shit I am at Latin. I can't even find a translation. That's how old it is."

"And you want me to help you translate it," she says, matter-of-factly. 

"Yes," I say, nodding. I'm not above any of this. "Please?"

She sighs dramatically. "I suppose I can help you."

_Yes_. "Thank you, Penny!" 

"Give it _here_ ," she sighs, reaching for the book. I give it to her happily, watching her eyes light up when she reads the title. "You're really going to do it, aren't you? You're really going to be the first mage in millennia to actually make a magical artifact." 

**Penelope**

I look over at Simon and he's grinning like a cat. Well. Maybe not quite like a cat. I've seen Simon's face grinning like a cat. Except that it was on the Humdrum. And it was awful. No, this Simon is grinning like he's seeing the sun for the first time in his life. 

"It feels like we're back at Watford, doesn't it?" he asks, sitting up on his elbows at my feet. 

It really does. It feels like we're back at Watford, doing research on some ancient text that will inform us on the Humdrum. Of course, nothing like that ever helped because the Humdrum wasn't some ancient creature. But this. This research is into the very nature of magic itself. We’re digging into magic itself and it's just like Watford but _so much better_. 

"It's so much better than being back at Watford, Simon," I say, cracking open the book. I recognize some of the words, some of the phrases. But this is going to take a while to translate. If we weren't keeping it a secret, I would ask Baz for help. He can sight translate. I can't. 

"This could take a while, Simon," I say slowly. "It's a really great manuscript, well taken care of, clear. I just wish it was in Greek instead of Latin." 

"That's okay," he says, still smiling. This doesn't phase him at all. It's like he's just excited to be back on the horse. And I can imagine that he is. Going to one of the Humdrum's dead spots is the closest thing that most mages will ever get to feeling the absence of their magic. Most mages go mad. But Simon has been living in his own personal dead spot for a nearly a year now. And he loved magic more than anyone. To feel it coursing through you again, to feel the familiar hum of your magic, it must be the best feeling in the world. 

I grab a notebook from my bedside table and start making notes, translating smaller phrases. 

"You said your magic feels different this time," I say, glancing up at him. "Like cool air blowing through you." 

He nods, a question settling in between his eyebrows. 

"Okay. So, do you think that getting a wand, or whatever magical artifact you choose, will put a cork on it? Or do you think it'll just let you direct it?" 

**Simon**

I can't stop myself from grinning. Constantly grinning. Not only does it feel like a breeze, it feels like life. 

"I dunno," I say in response to Penny's question. "I hope it'll just let me direct it. But it might put a cork on it. I think anything's possible. This is unprecedented." 

It's what Penny had told me after I lost my magic. It's what Professor Bunce and Baz and literally everyone in the world told me after I lost my magic. After I gave my magic to the Humdrum. 

She nods. "It is that." 

\--

It's three in the morning when Penny finally busts into my room, flipping on the light. Thank magic Baz isn't here because she barges in shouting about the book. 

"It's blood magic!" she exclaims, jumping onto my bed next to me. She has a notebook closed inside the book and opens them both up. "You have to assemble the parts of your artifact yourself, whatever you want it to be, and then there's a ritual. There's a specific order you have to assemble each part in, which is different for each artifact. There are a dozen different options in here, some of which I've never even heard of. Did you know that you can turn an animal into a magical artifact?"

"There's probably a reason that people stopped doing that, Penny," I yawn, rubbing at my eyes. 

"Well of course there is, Simon. Animals are only useful as magical artifacts if they're alive. Unless they're rabbits. That's where lucky rabbits' feet came from!" She's practically vibrating. "Anyway, if you were to do a wand, it would need some sort of sore, which you would infuse with your blood. Then you would insert it into the main body of the wand, say an incantation, then insert _that_ into the handle. Say another incantation. Then there's a waiting period of a few days when you have to say a few more incantations at specific time intervals. If you were doing a ring, you would infuse the metal with your blood before you pour it into the ring mold, then immerse the gem in your blood. And there are incantations and things, of course. But the magic keeps the blood from affecting the appearance of the metal and the gem. It's all so fascinating, Simon!" 

"That's great," I yawn again. "So you know what I have to do then?" 

"Yes!" she sighs, exasperated. "I wrote it all down for you. So now you just need to decide what you want to make." 

I rub my eyes again. I have been thinking about it. What I might want my magical artifact to be. Having a wand was nice because it made it easier to visualize where my magic was going. But it was cumbersome and hard to keep on me. Gareth's belt buckle is ridiculous, so I don't want anything like that. But then I thought about Penny's ring. And it just really made sense. A ring is easy to carry, will point exactly where I need it to, and can look however I want it to. 

"I think I want a ring," I say. 

"Not a wand?" Penny asks. She stops vibrating momentarily. 

"No, I don’t think I want a wand. They're a bit bulky, aren't they?" 

"And you want a ring?"

"I think so, yeah."

If we were standing, she probably would have tackled me to the ground. Instead, she flings her arms around me, giggling. 

"Oh, Simon, you'll love it! What are you going to make it from? The book says that different metals conduct magic better than others. Like, my ring is made of gold and it's a decent conductor. But if it were made of something like copper or silver, which are better conductors of electricity, it would conduct magic better. At least, I think that conductivity for magic works like electrical conductivity. I don't remember ever covering it in Magical Science." 

"I don't either," I reply. 

"We didn't really need to study them. It's only useful if you're creating magical artifacts. And everyone already has one." 

I nod. She's right. As usual. We did all have magical artifacts, so there was no reason for us to know how electrical conductivity affects magical conductivity. 

"Does the book say how it works? Is there a-a chart or something?" I ask. I'm wide awake now and my mind is racing. 

Penny nods. "It looks really similar to the electrical conductivity tables that I've seen, so I'm thinking that there's a correlation." 

"So, the more conductive of electricity, the more conductive of magic?" I say, trying to clarify. We've probably said it six times, but I need to make sure I'm understanding. 

"Yes, Simon. I think so." 

"So I'll need to find a really conductive metal. Like silver or copper. We can do that." 

"We can do that this weekend," Penny says, closing the book and her notebook. "We can go and find a hunk of your metal and a place for you to work. Though, I'm sure there's someplace at Watford that you could use. I bet Mum could tell us."

"So we'll talk to your mum, too." It's a good plan. A solid jumping off point. And that's what I need.


	3. A Plot

**Simon**

Penny and I pull up to her house around tea time and Priya and Pip come running out the door to tackle their sister. She laughs and picks Pip up, slinging her youngest sibling over her shoulder like a sack. I lead them in, greeting the Professors Bunce with a wave as the three siblings tramp in behind me. We sit the kids down with milk and biscuits, then Penelope, the Professors Bunce, and I make our way to Martin's attic study. The four of us sit around the book and Penny's notes, Penny and I silent while her parents look over her notes.

They mutter to each other a bit, scratching something onto the page with a pen every now and then. After a few minutes of low, whispered argument, they look up at us.

"Simon," Professor Bunce says, scratching at the base of her ponytail, "I think that this is a viable method. I think that this is possible."

Martin nods in agreement. "I think so, too. It's going to be difficult. And you're going to be primarily on your own. But Penny's translations are good. And you've done more difficult things than this."

"Once you get the supplies together, it'll take about a week to create your magical artifact, your ring," Professor Bunce explains. "You'll have to acquire your metal and leave it, immersed in your blood for twenty-four hours. Then you'll need to melt it and infuse it with your blood. Once you pour it into the mold and it cools sufficiently, you'll need to quench it in your blood. It'll need to soak for forty-eight hours. All the while, your gemstone will need to be soaking. You are going to lose a good bit of blood for this, Simon. And every part of this must be done yourself. If any other mage touches it before the process is complete, the magic will fail. After you mount your stone, the finished ring will need to soak for the remaining four days in your blood. It will glow with your magic when it's finished, so you'll need to check on it periodically over the last forty-eight hours. Are you sure you want to do this?"

I nod eagerly. When I lost my magic, it was like losing a piece of myself. Whether it was a limb or a piece of my soul, I'm still not sure. But whichever it was, I needed this back. Like I need air. I was gone for a long, long time. Baz thought that I was going to die. I felt like I was going to die at some points. Baz was the only reason I stayed alive. But my therapist said that was unhealthy. And now I have a new reason to live. I have magic again. Of course I'm going to do this. I don't care how much blood I have to lose, I don't care how long it'll take. I have to do this.

**Penelope**

I didn't realize how long this would take. How much blood he would have to use. I didn't think about it as I was translating. I thought about it, but it didn't click. Today, it clicks. Two pints. He'll need two pints on reserve. Two pints out of him at once would cause him to pass out. Almost certainly. He'll need to stay at Watford. Or at least commute. He'll be doing it over the summer. So he'll have time to do it away from classes. But it's going to take a lot out of him. The incantations are brutal. They sap every bit of your magic. And then you do it over again the next day. It's not enough time to recover. The nurse will be able to help him with that. And with the blood.

I don’t want to let him do it. I've seen him suffer so much. To keep him from doing this would cause more suffering. So he has to do it. And I have to let him do it.

**Simon**

"I know of a place where you can find your metal," Martin says, adjusting his glasses. "I found the shop when we were surveying the holes in Cheshire. It isn't altogether distasteful, but you might want to take someone with you. Just in case."

I narrow my eyes. "Just in case what?"

\--

The shop is owned by werewolves. Of course it is. It's just my luck isn't it?

Penny grand my elbow before we go in and whispers to me, "We don't have to go in, Simon. We could go somewhere else. I'm sure Mum could find another shop."

The shop front looks dirty. Like it's been around for ages and no one's bothered to clean the shop front in years. The windows are cloudy and there's some sort of greenish grime on the brick, maybe algae or moss, I can't be sure. But there are also cracks in the glass and bars in the windows and door. I don't want to say it's because it's owned by werewolves. That would be speciesist. But it probably doesn't help.

The inside of the shop, surprisingly, is much cleaner when we enter. I had to essentially drag Penny inside. She still mutters under her breath about werewolves and how her dad sent us into a trap without even realizing. I don't blame her. We don't exactly have the best track record with werewolves. We don't even know which pack these belong to. They could be a branch off the pack we got the moonstone back from. After they stole it. That would be... Bad. Considering Penny took some of their pelts. Yes, bad is the right word. Even if it's an understatement.

When we walk in, a bell jingles above us. Penny startles, her hand flying once more to my bicep, but I don't.

"It's just a bell, Penny," I say, trying to be reassuring. "It's just to l let them know someone's here."

The shop we've walked into looks like an old jewelry shop. One that's seen better days. The wallpaper, faded and dusty, peels in places. You can look just under the molding and see places where the mauve paper is pushing to reveal sunny yellow underneath. Really, they should have sick with the yellow. The dusty mauve combined with the yellowed overhead lights make it seem as though the building itself is sick, ready to keel over.

There are jewelry cases on the sides of the room, their glass dusty except for the top and the lights missing in places. Where there should be pristine sayin our velvet cushions for the jewelry, there is stained blue cloth that looks like it could have been a table cloth at some point. In the center of the room is another case. This one is much nicer, perhaps newer than the other cases, with bright white lights and rich black satin hugging the jewels on display inside. Those must be the expensive pieces.

Before I get a chance to look, a young girl steps into the room from a door behind the case on the eastern wall. She's small, slight, with lamp-like yellow eyes and bushy chestnut hair taking around her petite shoulders. She looks no older than Baz's younger sister, Mordelia. Though, if she is a werewolf, she might be a lot older than she looks. The girl looks at me appraisingly, like she might a steak.

"Welcome, Simon Snow," she says in a high but quiet voice. I must look absolutely fucking gobsmacked because she chuckles at me. "Yes, we know who your are. You and your friends put down a pack of rogue wolves a few years back. I was only a pup, but from what I can tell, they had it coming. They were disobedient, blatantly disrespectful of our order. They were to be dealt with not too long after you yourself got to them."

I find myself frowning. "They were rogues?" I ask. For some reason, the explanation didn't shit well with me. Maybe its because I've spent so long regretting hurting them, even though they were clearly trying to hurt us. It seems too convenient.

But the wolf girl nods, folding her hands together on the counter in front of her. If I'm going to get my magic back, really get my magic back, we have to trust her.

I turn to look at Penny, who is clearly running scenarios through in her mind. She has a look of deep concentration, like shell bite you if you try to interrupt her. Then her shoulders relax and her eyes soften and I see her look at me and nod, almost imperceptibly. She's decided to trust them. So I will too.

"Alright then," I say, trying to sound convincing. 

**Penelope**

The small girl behind the counter looks like she'd gladly eat Simon if she were given the chance. I don't know why. He never gained any weight back last year. He still looks thin. Even though the two of us eat more junk food than we ever have before in our lives. I gained weight. But Simon never did. And she's still looking at him like he's a juicy piece of meat.

"What are you looking for, Simon Snow?" she asks, her mouth full of teeth. She looks like an innocent girl at first glance, but there's something off. There's something predatory about her that sets me in edge. She bats her yellow eyes at him.

Simon, for the most part, remains cool. I see how hand reflexively twitch at his hip, like he wants to call for his sword. But it won't come to him. It hasn't come to him dive he gave up his magic. Even though his magic's come back.

"We're here looking for a highly conductive metal. Preferably pure silver or copper. A friend told us that you might be able to help us," he says delicately. He's choosing his words carefully for the first time in his life. And if I've never been attracted to Simon Snow in my life, if I didn't think of him like a brother, I might have found it attractive.

Micah chooses his words like that. Carefully. Like if he's not delicate with his words, they'll all fly out at once and abandon him for good. Simon isn't choosing his words like Micah does exactly. He's choosing them like he's guarding a secret. Because he is guarding a secret. If anyone found out about his magic coming back, that he doesn't have a wand... Well, there are a lot of people out there who would like to see the Chosen One taken down.

The werewolf girl nods, her brown curls bobbing. "We can help you with metals. But it will cost you."

I narrow my eyes and frown. "What's it going to cost?" I ask, stepping up to Simon's side.

She turns her head to look at me, her eyes piercing. "It will cost something valuable," she snaps. "It is up to Simon Snow what he gives up in exchange, but we don't deal in the Queen's money here."

She turns to Simon, and he flinches, his hand twitching again. "Chosen One, Simon Snow, you were prophesied. I know because I was a mage before I was turned. The Mage snapped my wand. You have something that no one else has and that everyone else wants: You have power. It flows through you like a stream. I can feel it. Do you know what I want in return for your metal?"

Simon nods. "You want magic."

I have absolutely no idea what Simon is thinking. He can't give her a wand. Not without the approval of the Coven. And whatever wand she's given, it won't work for her. Unless.

"Did you keep your wand?" I ask.


End file.
